Belleville, NJ
by nightwish-shadowstalker
Summary: My Chemical Romance/Fall Out Boy. Contains a lot of swearing, a gay couple, and suggestions of violence. In one town in America, two rival vampire clans are fighting for control, and they won't stop until the other clan is dead. Enter the Iero twins...


Jessie's POV

"Urgh. Stupid thing! I hate this place already."

I turned to see my brother struggling. Not with the mattress, or the sofa – nope, not Frank Iero. He was struggling with the key for the front door.

"Frank, seriously, it's a fucking door. It's not like they're that complicated or anything."

"Shut up," he laughed. I rolled my eyes.

"Tell you what, you get the van, I'll get the door. Deal?"

He went back to the hired van and yanked open the door. We didn't have much, just the basics: guitars, amps, drum kit, mattress, that kind of thing. I carefully took the key out of the lock where he'd jammed it and opened the door. Between us, we shifted the contents of the van into the new apartment – twenty-five minutes flat, not bad going. I checked the sky – dawn still a solid two hours off. Good.

Well, if you're a vampire, sunlight isn't exactly your best friend.

We managed to get most of our stuff sorted out in the dark before sunrise. It wasn't easy – we'd been on the road in the black van for nearly twenty-four hours straight, and neither of us had fed for days. Frank quit first, sprawling on the mattress and pulling out a crumpled packet of cigarettes. I threw him the lighter and fell down beside him, shattered. We shared one in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Needs painting," he said quietly.

"I know. I'll get some stuff tomorrow. Well, later today."

Black paint on the shopping list then, along with more cigarettes and another lighter.

"Thank fuck it's Jersey," he said. "Nobody will bat an eyelid."

"Or a batwing," I said. He giggled. We lay there in silence for a while.

"Jessie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss them?"

"Sometimes. When there's nothing else to think about. It feels like they're just kind of there."

"Like they can't move on?"

"Yeah."

He put an arm round me. I think we both fell into that uneasy kind of sleep we'd got so used to. Neither of us slept alone any more.

Saturday dawned, cloudy and damp. Another great day in Belleville, NJ – that's why it's vampire central, there's never any fucking sunshine for ten months of the year. So much so there's actually two rival clans battling for control – an American rarity. If the town's big enough to support two, then they fight until one of them's wiped out. The other clan is generally not much better off. Strange that the Way and the Wentz clan should be so evenly matched. The only way would be to split one clan right down the middle.

I forced myself to get up after all of three hours' sleep, avoiding any potential light. I was still drained (ha bloody ha) and I was craving coffee and blood, worse than I had for months. Frank was still lying there, snoring softly, so I scribbled a note and found my music before going. Went to the hardware store, bought enough black paint for the whole damn flat, and then hit Starbucks. Had to walk past the local high school on the way down, which got me wondering. Should Frank and I enrol? Technically, it wasn't too late for new students, and this particular branch of American education looked as if it would take on Al Capone if he paid. In the nicest possible sense. It looked better than the last one, though, if only by the baseline of the banner that said _Alive or otherwise, we're all Americans_.

I put that on the back burner and ordered the strongest thing I could: double espresso, no milk, no sugar. I was hoping it would help with the blood craving as well as the caffeine. The guy behind smiled at me and joined me at the bar-stool window seats.

"Fighting the shakes?" he asked wryly, sipping his own espresso (single, with sugar).

"No kidding," I muttered. "I haven't fed for days."

"Jesus," he laughed. "Why? Feeling suicidal lately?"

"Kind of. Just got here from the Texan heartland," I replied.

He winced. "Ouch. Sorry." Texas was not a good place to be a vampire of late; the churches had incited mass hatred of us, to the point of vigilante killings.

"So, new blood, huh?" He extended his hand. "Gerard Way."

"Jessie Iero," I said, looking at him properly now. Slightly taller than me. Black hair, shoulder length, emo-cut bangs falling in his eyes. Ivory skin, definitely vampiric. Born into it, going on those fangs. Attractive, for a guy. I wondered if he made a similar assessment of me:

_Shorter than me, but not by much. Black hair, plaited, some strands loose, sleepless night. Brown eyes, gold flecks. Very pale, and born like it, on those fangs. Suppressed anger at something or someone. Curious._

I asked if he went to the high school.

He nodded. "One more year after this one, then I'm done."

"Same. Would they still let us enrol now?"

"Probably. Who's 'us'?"

"Me and my brother Frank." I tipped back the rest of the coffee. "Where do you go to get a proper drink around here?"

"Blood bank down the road, there's a sign in the window," he said, standing. "I'll show you. I could use one myself."

He led me to a quiet shop with the word 'Sanctuary' over the door. It was comfortably dark and cool inside, and as we sat down in a booth and ordered I relaxed a little. We got about a pint each – I could've drunk double that easily, but I felt better for it all the same. I got a few bottles for Frank and me, for later.

"What's the story with you, then?" Gerard asked. "Parents? Family up here?"

"Did you hear about the Mortal Marches?" I couldn't look at him.

"So your parents were…" He tailed off awkwardly.

"Dusted. Yeah."

"Sorry. Wouldn't have asked."

I shrugged. "It's fine. Nothing I can do about it now, and nothing I could have done at the time."

"Even so. Sorry."

I drank the last few drops of red greedily. "What about your story, then? Two clans, one town. Gotta be something there."

His eyes darkened. "We're exactly balanced. Ways don't convert, we entwine, so we're more powerful, but we're a smaller clan. Wentz and his lot aren't as strong as us individually, but there's a hell of a lot more of them than there are of us. It's been like that all my life." He grimaced. "Apparently, that's how it's always been. There have been vampires here for centuries, maybe millennia. It started out with one brother-sister clan for the whole town. But they fought, split the clan down the middle. The sister started the Wentz clan, the brother the Way clan. They raised armies against each other, but neither side could ever hold power for more than a couple of years. People say things will always be like this. Unless there's another brother and sister who can bring the clans back together." He laughed tiredly. "Like that'll ever happen."

We swapped numbers and went our separate ways after that. I went to the high school and enrolled us both – term started next Wednesday, no uniform and no smoking, bleeding, or fighting on campus. But I kept thinking about what he'd said over the course of the day, painting the flat black. _We're exactly balanced… Unless there's another brother and sister who can bring the clans back together_…

It had to just be coincidence that Frank and I had turned up… right?

"What do you think?" Frank asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know what to think. I mean, both of our parents had ancestors here…"

"You think he was telling the truth?"

"Could be. If he was…" I let the sentence hang.

"… Then that makes us what they've been looking for the last few thousand years."

"Exactly."

Frank laughed. "Well, if we can bring them together, then at least we won't have to worry about some prick coming after us – we'd have the whole town to defend us. I don't know about you, but I'm getting sick of running."

"Yeah. I guess that's one way to look at it," I said thoughtfully. Frank sighed and flicked paint at me.

"Hey! What was that for?"

He laughed. "You were properly zoning out. Thinking about Gerard, perhaps?"

I flicked him back. "Shut up."

"That's a yes, then. What was it? His eyes? His smile?" The Iero family trademark evil smirk. "Or just his ass?"

"Oh, this means war, Frank Iero," I snarled, launching myself at him. I'm taller than him and we went straight down – of course, we would go and land in the paint tray.

"I'm so gonna get you for that," he said, flipping us over. Something caught my eye, and I reached over and held the bottle out to him.

"Want a drink?"

He looked nonplussed for a second. "Oh. Thanks." By the time he'd figured out it was empty, I'd rolled us again and pinned his arms.

"I win."

He sighed. "Please tell me there's something drinkable left in the house."

I stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him up. "Doubtful. Shall we go and get some more?"

He looked down at himself, then looked at me. "We're covered in paint."

"Indeed we are. Five points for stating the bleeding obvious."

He grinned. "Bad choice of words."

"I know. I regretted it the second I said it."

"Let's go get cleaned up."

"Agreed."

On the first day of high school, I looked around and thought straight away: This was a bad idea. We'd turned up in what we both nicknamed 'standards' – the usual kit. The kind of clothes you can fight in or flee in – leather jackets, black tees, skinnies/short skirt and Converses. The kind of gear you live in when you're running.

You could smell the tension between the two clans. And it was clear straight away you had to pick one side or the other – even the ones still breathing had clear allegiances. I looked at Frank, and saw him coming to the same conclusion.

"Make your choice. Wentz or Way?"

"Wentz. You've already got a path in with Gerard, it'll look weird if you suddenly change your mind."

I nodded. "I know. I was thinking that." I rummaged in my backpack for the timetable. "Have we got any classes together?"

He skimmed the papers and shook his head. "Doesn't look like it. I'll see you at morning break, meet me by the entrance and we'll see how we're doing."

I smiled. "This is the first time we've been separated for more than two hours. Is that weird?"

He laughed. "That's weird, even by our standards. Wentz is the tall fucker, isn't he? By the door, drinking soda."

I nod. "I think so."

He looked briefly the other way, over to Gerard, and smiled. "I take back all the zoning jokes. He's cute." His eyes flicked over the other guys. "Ooh, who's that guy? Glasses, skinny, hot as hell."

"No idea. And back off Gerard, he's mine," I said jokingly.

"For now," Frank giggled, swiping my coke in lieu of a goodbye. I swatted him, stole it back and wandered over to Gerard. "Hey."

He grinned at me. "Alright?"

"Not bad. And yourself?"

"Can't complain. Hey – have you met Mikey?" he asked, gesturing to the skinny kid with glasses standing next to him.

"Nope. Hey Mikey. I'm Jessie," I said as we shook hands. It seemed weirdly formal for high school. That's vampires for you – if you're going to live pretty much forever, you might as well get used to good manners.

"New blood, huh?" he asked. "Where you from?"

"Born in Texas, but our family came from here originally," I said with a shrug. He winced.

"Ouch. Bad times. Who's the short-ass you were with?"

"That's Frank, he's my brother. And you're one to talk," I pointed out. He was the same height as Frank.

"Hey, I am normal, I'm fourteen years old," Mikey laughed. "He's just a midget." He smiled slightly. "He's a cute midget, though. Nice ass."

"Dude, he's my brother," I laughed. "I don't want to hear it."

"Looks like he's decided to go with Pete and his minions," Gerard commented, pointing across the hall. I shrugged. He quirked an eyebrow in response. "Don't you care?"

"Who my brother decides to hang out with is none of my concern," I said dryly. "As long as he's still walking and talking at the end of the day, I don't care."

Gerard nodded in agreement. "Fair enough. Let's get out of here. It sounds like Pete's trying to start a war over there."

We swung out into the hallway, followed by two guys I hadn't noticed before.

"Oh yeah – guys, this is Jessie. Jessie, this is Ray" – the guy with the 'fro waved – "and Bob" – the really tall blond guy smiled and waved – "they're our buddies. We're in most of the same classes, so we usually hang out. You're welcome to join us, if you want."

I smiled. "Thanks. What have you guys got first?"

Gerard pulled a face. "Math. With Mr. Roberts. And Pete."

"Room M12?"

Mikey shook his head. "No, that's Miss James' class. You're with Bob, I think."

Bob nodded. "Yeah, I'm M12. Come on, I'll show you where we are. Got any books or anything?"

"Nope. I don't even have a map," I laughed.

He sighed in exasperation. "Yeah, this school couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery," he smiled. "Let's go."

Frank's POV

I sighed, shouldered the backpack and wandered over to the soda machine where Pete was. He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes and the kind of smirky smile that had some girls – and probably some guys – weak at the knees.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Frank Iero. Who the hell are you?"

The taller boy laughed. "Pete Wentz. You the new guy?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Where you from?"

"Texas born, but the family's from round here."

Pete winced. "Ow. Sorry, man. You and your…" he tailed off. "I'm guessing she's your sister…"

I nodded. "Yeah, she is. And before you ask, yes, we got caught up in the Mortal Marches. I'd rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you."

Pete nodded. "No, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have said anything."

I shrugged. "It's cool. What class you got?"

"English, I think…? No, Math." Pete grimaced. "Great, Mr. Roberts and Gerard in the same room. Could things get any worse?"

"M5?"

"No, I'm M9."

I squinted at the timetable in confusion. "Where the fuck is M5?"

"I'm in your class, I think, I'll show you where we are," someone said, stepping forward. He was also tall, with curly dark hair, tattoo 'sleeves' and a lip piercing. For fuck's sake, why is everybody so fucking tall?

"I'm Andy, by the way."

"Frank Iero. What's the story with you guys?" I asked as they walked to class.

"We're all converts – you know, we're not born bloodless," Andy explained. "Pete and his family are kind of the leaders of the clan. But we're all pretty much equal in terms of strength – it's just about training, really."

"What about Gerard and his lot?"

Andy's expression darkened. "They do things differently. They entwine – two vampires have kids together, rather than just converting someone. So they're much stronger than we are. You know, I wouldn't want to get in a fight with any of them, one for one. But there are fewer of them. Pete hates them with a passion; he thinks they're all freaks. The rest of us… we just try and get by."

I nodded. "I know the feeling."

Andy laughed. "Yeah. You've got no idea. It's, like, the first day back after the holiday and Pete's already trying to incite a riot."

"What?!"

"Seriously. He's trying to get everyone to go after the Way guys after classes today. It's everyone involved, everyone fights the Ways, or you fight Pete on your own."

"What? That's insane! My sister's hanging out with Gerard, I'm not fighting her," I exploded. "And I was born bloodless. Nothing I can do."

Andy sighed. "I know. I've got a couple of friends who hang out with them. My advice is, just tell her to scram at the end of the day, and scram yourself. It's gonna be a warzone."

We met up by the main doors after Math. She looked at me, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm guessing you've heard the same rumour as me, right?"

"It's not a rumour. Pete's trying to start an all-out war against Gerard and anyone else who hangs out with him."

She sighed irritably. "Well, that settles it, then."

"Settles what?" I asked in confusion.

"We have to bring these two clans together before they tear the town apart." She lit a cigarette and took a long drag, thinking.

"How? They can't even be in the same room together without threatening to kill each other," I said dryly, remembering Andy's reaction earlier.

She just laughed. "Ever heard the saying, 'There's a fine line between love and hate'?"

"What?" I said, now completely lost. She passed me the cigarette.

"I don't think it's just hatred. If it was, Pete wouldn't even talk to the guy, he'd just ignore him and plan his murder. But he keeps trying to push Gerard, trying to fight him… he's trying to at least interact with him. He sees Gerard as a person, not a thing he doesn't like. I think that's the key."

I looked at her with the most disbelieving, dismissive look I could manage under the circumstances. It's difficult when you're coughing from a combination of smoke and laughter. "You think that on some level, he _wants_ Gerard?"

She smirked. "I'll leave the mental image up to your imagination. We need to meet up, after classes, catch both of them and get them back to our place – you get Pete and I'll get Gerard. And we lock them in a room together until they at least agree not to murder each other."

I paused, thinking of something Andy had said in Math. "Pete's buddy seems to have had the same idea."

"Which one? The cute one with tattoos?" she smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "He's not cute. Mikey is cute. He's not."

She giggled. "I think he is. He's not trying to pull all the girls like Pete, he's not arrogant, he's in his own world."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know the one you mean. His name's Andy. Tall, curly hair, lip ring."

"He reckons there's something there?"

"He's not certain, but he wouldn't be surprised. He says that last year, Pete was taunting Gerard for ages, in every class, saying he was gay. And Gerard turned round one day and said, 'Pete, I've got a girlfriend' and Pete looked like he'd been kicked in the gut."

She smiled. "Why am I not surprised?"

I handed the cigarette back and she took one drag before stubbing it out on the floor. "You know, this crazy plan of yours might just work."

"Oh, wow, bro. Thanks for the vote of confidence," she replied, swinging her bag over one shoulder. "Meet back here at the end of the day."

Lessons seemed to go past in a blur. I was too worried about the fight brewing to concentrate. By the time I got back to the main entrance, I could see things spiralling out of control. There were two gangs of kids just waiting outside the doors.

"Whose side are you on?" one of them yelled as I walked past.

"The other side," I yelled back and kept walking.

Jessie was there, tapping her feet impatiently. "Where the hell…"

"Don't start," I muttered. "Really. Don't."

She looked nervous. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said quietly. "Did you get the car?"

She nodded. "You get Wentz, I'll get Way."

We darted out the doors and between the two groups. She threw me the keys to the rental car and I snatched them out of the air. "Punch it." I heard the van drive away, and yanked my phone out of my bag.

"Hey Pete. You gotta see this. Meet me by the entrance, I've got a car, I'll give you a ride."

Further down, I could see Gerard getting into the van and saw them drive away. If Pete had seen too, then the plan was fucked. I jumped as someone rapped hard on the roof.

"Hey!" Pete stuck his head through the open window. "What's so important I'm missing the fight for it?"

"Gerard isn't there," I told him. "You're wasting your time. Somebody tipped them off, they've got lifts. I know where they're going. Get in the car."

He swung in the back and I hit the gas.

God, I hope this works.

Jessie's POV

I drove back to ours, Gerard jumped out and I led the way into the apartment.

He grinned. "Nice place you got here. Very… moody. I like it."

I opened the fridge. "Want something to drink?"

"Mmmh. Fuck yeah. I could murder for a pint of red."

"I'll take that as a yes, then." I grabbed two bottles of blood and threw one to him, setting two more on the side for Frank and Pete when they got here. He caught it easily, cracking it open on a fang.

"Ohh yeah. That's the good stuff." He downed half the bottle in one gulp. I smiled. Blood is a necessity for a vampire, but the… shall we say, _intoxicating_ side-effects are well-known.

"So…" I said, sitting down next to him on the sofa. "Girlfriend?"

He smiled wryly. "You asking?"

"No."

"No. I don't. We split last year."

I winced. "Ouch. Sorry."

"Ah, not your fault, it was mine. It took me a year and a half and a very pissed-off chick to figure out that it's not my thing." He took another swig of the bottle. I heard the door open.

"Hey, Frank. Hey, Pete."

Frank shut the door, fast, and twisted the key in the lock, as Pete tried to make a break for it. "You're not going anywhere, sparkles."

Pete looked completely lost. "Sparkles?" he mouthed at me.

"Don't ask," I said, standing up. "Blood?"

He nodded. He looked freaked out. "I think I'm gonna need it."

"No kidding," I said quietly, guiding him to the sofa. "Now, you two can sit quietly and listen and survive unscathed. Or you can be nasty and try to hurt someone and you can both be knocked unconscious."

They sat completely still, looking genuinely petrified.

"Good. You've still got brains, even if you don't appear to use them most of the time. Now then. You guys have been at war for generations over this stupid town. Can either of you give me a good reason why you need to continue?"

They looked at each other, said nothing.

"That's a start. Second thing. How long have you known that you had feelings for each other?"

Gerard spoke first. "Nine months."

"Two years," Pete said, very quietly.

"Two years? For fuck's sake. Get together already," Frank said dryly, taking a swig of the bottle. "If you two of all people come out as a couple, nobody is going to fucking argue."

I shrugged. "He has a point. You two are the leaders of your respective clans. If you get together, what is really keeping the clans apart? Nothing."

Gerard looked at us, first to me and then to Frank. "You guys…. You're not the new blood. You're the returned. You're the descendants of the brother and sister all those years ago. Right?"

Frank looked at me, and we both laughed. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"Then that makes you the leaders," he pointed out.

Frank nodded. "Yeah. It does."

"And the whole fucking town owes you a debt," Pete said. He seemed calmer now, or at least less inclined to run or start a riot.

I nodded. "Yeah, I guess you kind of do." I looked at Frank. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

He grinned. "Revenge. Best served hot."

We stood outside and watched the house burn, slow and hot. The man who had killed our family was inside, dead before the flames. We fed well that night.

"Napalm is a wonderful thing when used in excess," Frank muttered to me.

"About time," I replied. "No more running. No more hiding. We were born for this."

We both felt our parents leave then. It was strange, not having them there, but it felt right. Like they'd been set free. Both of us smiled, and the flames danced at our feet and in our eyes.

True demons are few and far between, and not all of them – strictly speaking – are widely considered as demons, because they do what they must for the souls of those departed. Our parents were murdered, and we finally took revenge to set them free. True demons can be born to Satan and a human, or they can be a child possessed. Not often. But some are vampires, entwined over centuries, the bloodthirst passed down through the years. Very often ancestors are still present, awaiting their vengeance – they are the spark that ignites the potential within. They can control fire, read minds, and – just occasionally – fly.

As the sparks trailed off our wingtips, I wondered what would happen. Vampires can die from a stake through the heart, from the sun, from holy water – demons are immortal.

We are the rulers of this town and this clan. We always will be, and in a way we always have been. They were just waiting for our return.


End file.
